


Flashforward

by eponine119



Category: Lost
Genre: Ensemble Cast, Flash Forward, Gen, set in late season three
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-23
Updated: 2021-01-23
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28926465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eponine119/pseuds/eponine119
Summary: A mirror gives the castaways a glimpse of the future.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Flashforward

**Author's Note:**

> With apologies to Robert J. Sawyer, I suppose.

Flashforward  
by eponine119  
November 28, 2020

Sawyer howls as the soft sand attacks his foot. He bends forward in pain and to see what the hell he stepped on this time. “Son of a bitch.” There's something jagged and metallic sticking up from the sand. 

“Are you okay?” Juliet walks over to see what's going on. 

He glares at her as he digs the sand away from whatever it is with his fingers. 

“Plane wreckage?” she asks. 

“Hell if I know.” He's unearthed a jagged piece of thin metal slightly larger than his hand. One side is opaque and the other side is reflective. It captures the blue of the sky and then as he tips it, their faces. “Some kinda... mirror.” 

She reaches for it, and he holds it high and away from her so she can't get it. Juliet gives him a stubborn look. “You gotta be careful looking into broken mirrors,” he says lightly. “You never know what you might see.” 

“Is that Southern wisdom?” she asks, her voice low and amused. 

He chuckles and flashes her a grin. “Did it sound like it?” 

She rolls her eyes at him and then looks down. “James.” Her tone is serious, and he looks down to see his blood staining the sand. Her hand closes over his shoulder briefly. “Stay here and sit down. I'll grab the first aid kit.” 

“Where's the doc?” he calls after her, grumbling as he does what she ordered. 

“Off on some adventure in the jungle with Kate,” Juliet replies, returning with Jack's black bag, the camp's medical kit. She kneels down by his feet, which are stretched out in front of him. 

“You jealous?” he asks, watching her face as she takes his injured foot into her capable hands. 

“Are you?” she shoots back, and looks at him, so he shrugs. It's about as close to being honest with her – or anyone else – as he's willing to be. 

He picks up the mirror again, turning it over in his hands, wondering where it came from. It's not smooth on the edges like sea glass, so it probably didn't wash up. Airplane lavatory, maybe, he thinks, or some passenger's bag, though it's strange there's no other wreckage strewn about, unless it's been buried under the sand by the tides. 

He looks in the mirror and his breath catches, because what he sees is not his reflection. Though it is him. And Juliet. 

They're in a house, a real house, sitting on the couch together. She laughs, and he looks at her seriously. He watches himself say, “I love you” – he can read the words on his own lips. When he begins to kiss her, Sawyer drops the mirror like it's burned his fingers. 

“What the hell,” he says. 

“What happened?” She stops, looking at his face. “Do you feel faint?” 

“No, but I think I'm hallucinatin'.” He closes his eyes, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. Then he shoves his hair back and looks at her wide-eyed. 

“It's not that deep a cut,” she says. “Keep it elevated tonight, and don't get it wet. It should be better by tomorrow.” 

“Tomorrow,” he repeats, with doubtful irritability. He meets her eyes and he knows she's serious. 

She picks up the broken bit of mirror, holding it carefully with two fingers so the sharp edges don't cut her. 

“Hey, don't!” he says, as she turns it over and looks into the reflective side. 

He can't see what she's seeing, but he can watch her face. What he interprets as horror washes over her, and she raises one hand and puts it to her open mouth. The bit of glass falls from her fingers and she looks over at him. “Did you see –?” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. 

“What the hell,” she breathes. “Those were old Dharma jumpsuits. Why would we --” 

“What's going on here?” Charlie asks, a singsong of a tease as he looks from Sawyer to Juliet and back again. “What's this?” He snatches up the mirror.

“Wait!”

“Don't!” Juliet makes a grab for it, but Charlie's faster. He turns it over, and it flashes as it catches the sun. She glances at Sawyer, and together they watch Charlie for his reaction. 

“Weird,” he says after a minute, and flips it over again. “Thought it was a mirror, but it's just black on that side.” He turns to hand it back to Juliet. “What?” 

“Nothin',” Sawyer answers for her. 

“Guys, Jack and Kate aren't back yet,” Hurley walks over to report. He looks worried. “Do you think we ought to, you know --” 

Sawyer starts to put his feet underneath him, to get up, but Juliet's fingers dig into his shoulder, holding him where he is. “You're not going anywhere,” she informs him, looking at his bandaged foot. 

“Not even dark yet,” Charlie says. “They can handle themselves.” 

“What happened to you?” Hurley notices Sawyer's foot. 

“Sawyer found some broken glass the hard way,” Charlie answers. “It's this weird mirror thing. Here.” 

“No --” 

“Stop!” 

But Charlie hands it to Hurley. “What, like the Mirror of Erised?” Hurley asks. All three of them look at him. “Harry Potter?” He looks at Sawyer. “Come on, dude, you read.” 

“Not that,” Sawyer says. “Give it back.” 

But it's too late. Hurley looks down. His mouth opens and he looks pale underneath his freckles. Then he blinks and shoves the mirror away. “Uh, guys, did you look at this thing?” 

“Yeah,” Sawyer sighs. He tips his head. “What did you see?” 

“I was back in the inst-- um, nevermind. But like, Jack was there, and we were playing basketball.” Hurley's brown eyes meet Sawyer's. “Dude, I think that thing just showed me the future.” 

“Yeah,” Sawyer sighs again, and looks at Juliet, who raises her eyebrows and nods her agreement. 

Hurley's eyebrows draw together. “Wait, what did you see?” 

Sawyer shakes his head. He glances at Juliet, whose pink cheeks aren't due to a sudden case of sunburn. Hurley looks from Sawyer to Juliet, his mouth forming a little round O. “Do you know what this means?” Hurley cries, and Sawyer glances at Juliet again. “If that's the future, it means we get off the freakin' island! We're rescued, dude!” In his triumph, he turns to Charlie. “What did you see?” 

“I didn't see anything,” Charlie says, in an odd voice. 

“Come on, it don't mean --” 

Charlie shakes his head and walks down the beach, away from the camp. 

Hurley looks upset now. He holds out his hand, and Sawyer takes it and lets the other man pull him up. He stands on one foot, with just the toes of the injured foot touching the sand. “We gotta find Jack,” Hurley says, and sets off. 

Sawyer just stands there, unbalanced. “You can lean on me,” Juliet offers. He thinks about shrugging her off, then looks down the beach. It's a long way to hop back to his tent. So he slings his arm around her shoulders and awkwardly they go along together. 

“Don't show that thing to anyone else,” Juliet says. 

“Maybe it's not the future,” Sawyer says. She turns those blue eyes on him again. “Maybe it's – something else.” 

“Like what?” Juliet asks. 

“Parallel universe? I don't know.” He looks worriedly down the beach where Charlie is a solitary figure, drawing on his fingers with a Sharpie, the way he did right after the crash. “Don't mean he's gonna --” He can't bring himself to say it. 

“What did you see?” Juliet asks. They've reached Sawyer's tent and they stand outside the flap. 

“You know what I saw,” he says. “Same thing you did.” 

“We were still on the island,” she says gravely. She looks over at Hurley, who is talking to Claire. He's probably telling her; that word will be all over the beach. “He might get rescued, but we don't.” She meets his eyes again. 

Sawyer opens his mouth to say something, though he doesn't know what yet. He's feeling something weird and soft inside when he looks at her, and he doesn't like it one bit. Before he has to try to figure out what to say, Jack is there and screaming at him, as usual. 

“Where is it, Sawyer?” Jack demands. 

“Good to see you too, Scruffy,” Sawyer says, turning his attention to the perpetual thorn in his side. “Your girlfriend here fixed up my foot, you wanna have yourself a look?” He waves his injured foot in Jack's direction, then shifts a bit too far and Juliet has to grab his arm to keep him from losing his balance. Sawyer plants his foot in the sand, and it hurts so much it momentarily distracts him from the way her hand lingers on his arm. 

“I want to see it. Now.” 

“Jack,” Juliet says, in that quiet way she has. 

“Stay out of this,” Jack says, and Sawyer watches her blink with surprise. Jack holds out his hand insistently. 

Sawyer sighs. “I want it back.” He gives Jack the shard of glass, and watches as Jack looks at his reflection. Jack's face remains still, stoic. Only his eyes change. Sawyer's seen Jack look like this before, when he told him about the guy he met in that bar in Sydney. Jack nods, and hands it back to Sawyer. “What'd you see, Doc?” 

“What did you see, Sawyer?” Jack shoots back. They've met an impasse, neither of them willing to say. 

“Let me see it.” Kate has joined the party. 

“Hey, Kate,” Juliet says gently. 

Sawyer's about to tell Kate no, when Jack says, “That's not such a good idea.” 

“The lady can look if she wants to look,” Sawyer says to Jack, reversing course, then holds the mirror out to Kate, making his voice soft. “Here you go, Freckles.” 

She holds it, looking up at the sky instead of into the reflection for a long moment. They all know what she's afraid to see. Her shoulders slump with something like acceptance and then she looks down. “What the hell?” she says, and looks at Jack. Jack nods. 

“Y'all got something you want to share with the class?” Sawyer demands. 

“That was Aaron,” Kate says, and Jack nods again. Kate whirls around and storms off, practically running to Claire's tent. Jack puts his hand to his forehead like it hurts. 

The three of them watch the silent tableau as Kate holds the glass out to Claire, who clearly doesn't believe her. Then Claire looks, and she screams, the sound of the shriek splitting the air. It brings Charlie running from down the beach, and he arrives just as Claire is beginning to punch Kate, ineffectively and mostly around the shoulders, shouting, “You took my baby! You took my son!” 

“Oh, hell,” Sawyer mutters, and puts his foot down in the sand. Juliet just stands back, then follows him as he trails Jack. By the time they've reached Claire's tent, Sayid has pulled the two women apart and is standing between them with his hands outstretched. 

“What the hell is going on,” Sayid asks Jack. 

“Sawyer found a mirror that shows the future,” Hurley says. 

“That people think shows the future,” Jack corrects. “This could all be some kind of mass hallucination. Maybe something's happened to the water, or we had some old fruit --” 

“It's the future,” a chorus of voices informs him. 

“Let me see it,” Sayid says. “Please.” 

The shard makes its way into his hands. His eyes soften and fill with tears at whatever he sees there. He presses his thumb to the glass and murmurs something that sounds like, “Nadia.” 

“Who the hell is Nadia,” Sawyer demands. 

“James,” Juliet says, with her hand on his arm again. He glares at her, but he knows about how much he wants to tell what he saw, so he grinds his teeth together. 

“It's mine,” he informs Sayid. “I want it back.” 

Sayid looks at him as though he's just woken from a dream. “Will you charge batteries and loads of laundry for people to look at it?” he asks, light but incisive. 

Sawyer just shoves it back into his pocket. “Question is, what're we going to do about it?” 

“Do about what?” Locke appears from the treeline, his knife in his hand. “I heard Claire screaming. Came to see what the fuss was about.” He looks to Claire, who still looks stricken, though she's calmer now with Charlie holding her hand. 

“This.” Sawyer hands it to him reluctantly, but there's no point in putting up a fight. He knows how it'll end, so they might as well get it over with. 

“Now where did this come from?” Locke asks. “The luggage?” 

“Who the hell knows,” Sawyer says. “Just look at it and get it over with.” 

Locke's eyebrows rise and he looks into the glass. His expression hardens, and he moves his mouth like he's seeing something terrible. “Well,” he says when he looks up again. He hands the mirror back to Sawyer. 

“What'd you see?” Sawyer asks. 

“Apparently Ben is going to kill me,” Locke says evenly, like he's not even surprised. 

“Can I see that, brother?” Desmond stands at Sawyer's side. Sawyer passes the mirror to him without a word. “Penny,” Desmond says. “I didn't think – I didn't think I'd ever see her again.” 

“Great. Fantastic,” Sawyer says. “Anybody else want a turn?” He holds out his arms as though expecting a challenge. No one does, so he stomps over to the water's edge and flings the mirror as hard as he possibly can, out to sea. 

“You shouldn't have done that, Sawyer,” Jack's voice warns. 

“That little bitty look at the future not enough for you, Karnak?” Sawyer demands. 

“That mirror belonged to all of us.” 

“Swim for it then. I seen enough. And I ain't the only one.” He looks at Charlie, who looks lost, even standing in the middle of them all, holding on to Claire.

“We don't know that any of what we saw is real. Or the future. It could be some kind of a – a trick. A fantasy, a delusion --” 

“Some fantasy,” Sawyer mutters, but can't help glancing at Juliet again. 

“Maybe we should all say,” Kate pipes up. “Tell what we saw. See if we can put it together. If it was the future --” 

“It wasn't,” Sawyer and Jack say at the same time. Only one of them believes it. 

“Maybe we can figure it out,” Kate continues. “Use it to our advantage.” 

Sawyer turns away, to go back to his tent. He doesn't want any part of this.

“Sawyer!” Kate yells. He waves, and lets the tent flap fall closed behind him. 

An uneasy night falls. Sawyer ventures out, limping, to fill his bowl with oatmeal from the communal pot. The camp seems quiet. The firelight conversations that usually go on this time of night, aren't. Most people are sitting off by themselves, or in pairs. 

“How's your foot?” Juliet sits down at the table, across from him, with her own bowl of oatmeal. She looks down at it and then back at him. “This would be a lot better with some cinnamon.” 

“Fresh out,” he snarls. 

“You're still walking around barefoot.” 

“Couldn't get my boots on over the bandage,” he informs her. 

“Maybe we could scare you up a pair of flip flops.” 

“I ain't a flip flop kinda guy, sweetheart,” he says, and then regrets the nickname. It's been weighing on him, all afternoon, what he saw in that mirror. “What'd I miss?” 

“A lot of speculation,” Juliet says. 

“Anybody give up any details?” 

She shakes her head. Then she looks at him, interestedly. “We could talk about it.” 

“I ain't gonna talk to you about anything,” he says. 

She raises her eyebrows. “You'll change your mind.” 

“That's what you think,” he says, but he feels scared inside every time he thinks about it. Why would he be saying that to her in the future? It must be some kinda long con, some lie she fell for. But if it is, why is she looking at him like that? And why does he feel like this? 

“I just can't figure out why the old Dharma jumpsuits,” she says. 

“Can't help ya,” he says. “I didn't see 'em in mine.” 

Her eyebrows draw together. “Then what was in yours?” 

He thinks about saying nothing. But the he shakes his head. “You'n me, that's enough.” 

“It's weird,” she agrees, licking her spoon clean. He watches her look toward the pot, like she's thinking of going for another helping. “Knowing that at some time in the future, we're going to get over this mutual dislike that we have and sleep together.” 

“We're what,” he says, his voice low. Though it makes sense. It's part of the con. He's never said those words when it wasn't. 

“That's not what you saw?” she asks, and he feels satisfied that he's finally thrown her for a loop. 

He shakes his head. “What're you goin' on about Dharma jumpsuits for, if you saw us doin' that?” 

“I didn't say we were wearing them,” Juliet replies, her voice low and smooth as silk. 

“Ah,” is the only response he can come up with. 

Then raised voices capture their attention. One of them is Kate, pleading. “But maybe we can change things. Maybe that's why --” 

“It's not real, Kate,” is Jack's response. They're in his tent. 

“I don't want it to be real, and neither do you,” she says. “That's why we have to try to change things. Charlie dies, Jack.” 

“We don't know that.” 

Sawyer glances at Juliet, who is watching him. “You think we can change anything?” 

She shakes her head. 

“Me neither.” He tosses his spoon back into his empty bowl just to listen to it clatter. “Thanks for the grub,” he says, though she's not the one who gave it to him. She just kept him company. He feels her eyes on him as he limps the long way back to his tent. He refuses to look back, to let her know he's thinking of her and what she told him. 

He ain't getting off this rock. So what. He lays down in his tent and props up his foot like she'd told him to, then reaches for his book. At least he won't be alone. 

end


End file.
